Stoner Witch Robin
by Moonsister
Summary: Twist of fate a best taken with a sence of humor...or a quarter lime and salt. However, Amon is not that lucky. Perhapps a fight with a Scottish man will help clear foggy memories.
1. Inwhich Some Stuff Happens

Inwhich some nasty, and not quite so nasty surprises are presented 

Amon stalk the shadows of Walled City with increasing distaste. It'd been three years since the Factory 'collapsed', and 2 years and 7 months since Robin disapeared. Since then, he'd been wandering around this small section of city in a daze, returning to the hole he'd called home since leaving the STN. Always returning to see if she'd come back. She had been where he'd left her one morning, and gone later that afternoon. He shrugged deeper into his coat, trying hard to shake the feeling that he had made some big mistakes with her. She'd snapped, her power had taken over, he told himself repeatedly. Which is why he's out in the cold to hunt her down. His world, his life was distroyed and she split. She whom he'd broken free from his shackles for. That wasn't quite the truth, but it was close enough.

So absorbed in his self pity was he, that he stopped paying attention to where he was headed. Relived at the thought of being lost, maybe he could lose himself in the endless twists and turns. Maybe emerging as someone new, someone who's skin he could stand wearing every day. Turning down an alley that he'd never noticed before, Amon tripped over an unseen obstacle. The obstacle was warm and softish, stretched half way across the walkway was a man's leg.

"Hey, man, watch it." The voice was male, and slightly spacy sounding. "You could hurt yourself if your not carefull." Amon whirld impressively(The way only Amon can) toward the speaker. Inky hair flowed to the barren earth, a dusty red coat, black pants, and he was smoking. Exhaling, actually. A deep sticky sorta smell. "Or worse, you could get lost...which is my predicament." Amon rolled his eyes inwardly. "I'm not lost really", said the man " I just don't know exactly which way is home."

"Perhaps if you'd put down the pipe..." Amon started, but the man turned such kind silvery eyes up to his that he froze. Robin's eyes had that gentleness in them, even the last he'd seen of them. He tightened his lips, and lowered a glower to the man.

"It helps actually." The silver eyed man chuckled, "She'll be worried if I don't get back soon. If I'm stoned, I'll just get there..." The man took another hit, and stared off into space as he let the smoke trickle from his mouth. "You look like you could use some." Without warning Amon was dragged to the ground by a grip which was impossibly strong and a warm pipe shoved into his hand. "My Lady doesn't need a lighter...neither do I when she's around..." He seemed somewhat confused for a moment. "You are lost...that was what brought you to me...I was lost once too. When we're both good and loaded, I'll take you to her. I'm found now you see, maybe she can do the same for you?" It really wasn't a question, so Amon didn't answer. Suddenly reminded of early highschool years, he too raised the pipe and enjoyed the sticky flavor of strong flowers.

Niether man talked when they stood up, and not a word was uttered as they strolled off together. The stranger was true to his word, that he would find his home if he didn't have to think about it. Or couldn't think about it, Amon almost grinned at the moment of clarity that dirfted to him, then was lost again as it was drowned with confusion. It suddenly dawned on him that he was no longer in the Walled City. They were ambling down a driveway that was lined in garden and trees. A voice he couldn't forget was saying something from a shadowy porch. He looked up with surprise and alarm, all this time he'd hunted her, and now, when he was lost, cold, and starving, he finds her.

"Amon? Goodness you look thin! Mephisto, get him in here before he wastes away entirely!" Was all that he caught from the conversation.

"This cub a friend of yours then?" Mephisto ambled with no particular speed toward Amon's prey. "Good, good...never have too many friends..." Robin was making a face Amon didn't know the meaning to as she pushed both men into the house.

"I had a feeling we'd be having a guest tonight..." Robin said, just as spacy-like as Mephisto, as she took their coats and motioned for the two of them to move on without her. The deep well of anger began pushing it's way toward Amon's surface until he caught sent of fine Italian cuisine,at which point his self pity and internal loathing took a backseat to the growling in his stomach. Mephisto was chuckling at him as they sat down.

"I was lost when she found me..." The other man started as they surved themselves. Piling plates high with aromatic mediteranian food.

"As soon as you weren't, I was...no...I was just as lost as you..." Came Robin's soft voice from behind Amon, he would have swivled to look at her, but he was in the middle of a bite so he only eyed her from a sideways glance. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that hung to her waist, the same sumerset gold he remebered. Her eyes were bright and almost cheerful, though sad as they beheld him. Was he truely in a bad state? She had no more of the childishness left to the curve of her mouth, but she wasn't weighted either. Time was apparrently healing her wounds in a way that he could not boast.

The rest of the meal was spent listening to Mephisto pontificate on the ways of the world, and how wonderfuly things get wrapped up. After a few hours of being full to sleepiness, and a Thai Stick, Mephisto anounced that he was turning in, and off he went. Dissappearing into a darkened hall, his voice in the tune of some ancient song fading off with his dissappearing figure.

Robin was shaking her head and chuckling to herself as she put the last of the clean dishes where the belonged. "One of the last Ancients left...such a pity...so much knowledge, not enough youth for ambition, or memory...such a pity..."

"Robin...why?" Amon was so stoned that the words slipped, but no sentence would structure itself. She turned to him, biting her lip in silence as she looked with such sorrow.

"I...I couldn't watch you tear yourself apart anymore." The sorrow in her eyes deepend. "I couldn't think of how to help you." She shook her head. "There is nothing I can do to save you. You must save yourself." Her back was to him now, and he was on his feet, hands in fists of rage.

"Save me from what!" He demanded in a dangerous tone.

"Yourself." She answered, unafraid, unoffended, and with a loving tone of understanding. "Go to bed, Amon. There is more than enough room for you here. Rest knowing you are safe." She said gently, and drifted from the room. He sank to the floor, staring at the tile pattern for a long time. The self pity wasn't far from his mind as he took the hall that his hosts had taken. Founding an empty room, he collapsed face first on a wide, soft bed.


	2. Inwhich Reality is Reinforced

IN WHICH REALITY IS ENFORCED

Robin tossed and turned the whole night. Memories of the past refused to stay quiet as Amon was slumbing in the bedroom next to hers. Her heightened awarness told her that much. Memories of the STN-J, and the people she met there danced like Antonio Banderas in a tutu. Miho, the perma-PMS empath. Sakaki, the Amon wannabe, the least experienced of the group. Dojima, the sneaky one, Robin could tell from the start that she was hiding something. Micheal, the only REAL person on the team. The only real friend there. Amon. Cold and distant. Some would say stoic, but the strong silent type are that way for a reason. Strong silent types are what you look for in a washing machine, not a man! she chided herself for the thousandth time in her life. The few time he'd shared his thoughts, they had been accusations that reflected startlingly on himself. All these people where wonderful, really. Wonderfully trigger happy. They didn't care what it was so long as it had a trigger, and if it had a trigger, they were happy with it.

She rolled in her oversized, and overstuffed bed and stared at the clock.  
4:30 am. The glowing green electric light flashed mockingly at her. Like the Orbo had, like the sight of pickled humans had. Out of everyone there, was she really the only one who understood what Orbo truely was? The watered down blood of ghosts. Ectoplasm, watered down ectoplasm. she stuffed her face into the pillow. No sleep for the wicked, or the wise. She sighed and let the tears fall as they wished.

She had loved them all, because they were there for her to know and love.  
Somewhere inside herself, she knew that is why Amon had attatched himself to her. Dispite his words, confused looks in her direction, he stayed near her because she loved without judgement. Sitting up, she snatched the joint off the bedside table and watched the tip glow from down her nose. Years of Mephisto turned her into a pothead. No more PTSD, she thought with a shrug. Stoned, she bowed her head, bemused with the situation. She'd always known Solomon would not want her to live a long and full life, but here, with Mephisto, they had no way of finding her.

"In 2 thousand years they have been after me, and not once could they lay hands on me. How is it they will find you?" He had once said. Robin stood and pulled on what ever clothes where the handiest and set off toward the kitchen. Just as the clock rolled over to 5:oo.

He woke with a start, face down on a large soft(and very clean) bed. It wasn't his, so there was a moment of panic. which faded very swiftly, as last night's happenings rolled to the forefront of his mind. A familiar scent was drifting to his nose, making his stomach growl. After a few moments he decided to wonder down and consume some of that mouth watering smell.

Upon finally reaching the dining room, he could make out voices already into the moring's topic of conversation...him. Amon leaned his back against the wall, listening in on the conversation between his hosts, barely breathing and struggling to stay still.

"He's a handsome man, why did you never sleep with him, Robin?" That was Mephisto's odd, sort of sleep voice. Obvisiouly stoned already.

"I wouldn't be able to take the rejection when it was over." Her voice was full of saddness.

"I don't suppose he's the cuddly sort..." The man's thick voice trailed off.

"I didn't suppose so..." Her voice was small and shaky.

"You would have taken such things personally?"

"I am not so wise in the ways of the world as you, sex IS a personal issue among the young. Not to mention at the time I was consumed with self hate,  
and guilt." Her voice had returned to the strong, slightly humored resolute tone Amon was accustomed to. "That gravy isn't good when it gets cold"  
Amon listened to his heart pound in his chest for a while. It was out of fear that she never let him next to her...nothing more. As the conversation didn't pick back up, he desided it was safe to enter. Robin was leaning over the sink, a sad expression was over washed by a wistful one, as she scrubbed the dishes. Mephisto was sitting with his back to the doorway in which Amon was standing, but turned when he heard the younger man walk in.

"Good morning, young man," Mephisto nodded peaceably and motioned for Amon to take a seat at the kitchen table with him. Without a word, beyond the vague 'good mornings' not a word was uttered, until Robin set a plate with eggs and a cup of coffee in front of him, he sighed at the familiar sene.  
Looking up into her face, though, reminded him of the new situation.

"Thank you." He murmered, it had been awhile since he'd had a good breakfast. He ate his meal with the same vigor he used to. Relishing in a memory which had him convinced that she had been his. When he was finished, a pipe was in his hands, and his plate dissappeared. Thanking the cook, he leaned back in his chair and sipped dreamily on his coffee. Not wanting to disturb this moment of pretence.

"What are you up to today, My Lady?" Mephisto had to kill the dream Amon had slipped into. The storm cloud resettled itself on his brow.

"More study...probably some sewing...the usual." Her voice was a whisper.  
Amon had to wonder if she had been dreaming too. With the dishes done, she wondered out of the room without another word. Mephisto caught his eye and winked at him. Amon blinked not certain what the man ment. But guessed that it was something on the order of 'you are free to follow'. Something he found himself doing anyway, exiting the room with Mephisto chuckling.

He'd caught up to Robin in the library. With her glasses on, she studied an acient text, murmuring to her self. It seemed that she'd been sitting there for an eternity, though it couldn't have been more than five minutes.  
As he watched her, she seemed so still, breath coming slowly, unblinking.  
Or that she really wasn't there, just a representation. Like a painting.  
It unnerved him, so he began to move forward, thinking her name loudly in his head before opening his mouth. She looked up before a sound could originate in his throat. She blinked, her hair loose about her shoulders made a slide for the desk and her face, nearly obscuring one half. She blinked again, waiting for him to anounce his reason for this disturbance.

"Who is he?" It was almost a demand, but not quite.

"One of the last Ancients."

"Methusela, you mean."

"Sure."

They blinked at each other for a moment. She smiled a gentle, understanding smile, and pushed her hair away from her face. Amon took in her countance,  
nothing but the length of her hair had changed. Not her face, nor the kindness in her eyes. He sighed in reservation as he left the room, not quite knowing what to say or do at this junction. Hours passed and the morning's toke had worn off. He had ended up in the dusky sitting room that overlooked the garden. Watching the natural world do it's natural thing without him. Much like how she could get along without him just fine. His heart, his body ached for an affirmation of something that was beyond his realm of understanding. This feeling had come upon him the moment he had looked into Robin's eyes, had overcome him entirely before the Factory fell. He shook his head, it was starting toache as well. Just as he was about ready to get up and search someone out, when someone found him.

"Amon, I hate to disturb your pondering..." Robin's voice was a little nervous.

"It's alright," He eyed her slight figure in the doorway.

"Do you think you can find Mephisto for me?" She stayed her distance, and was obviously nervous. He raised an eyebrow. "He got high, and just sorta wondered off agian...and he's old you know...If you hadn't found him last night, I think he would have been lost for a while."

"Doesn't he usually just come back on his own?" He stood anyway, it would give him something to do.

"No." She made a sad giggle. "He has to be reminded that he has a home to come back to." She followed him to the door. "If it gets late just think about coming back and you'll get here." She thrust a bag and some keys into his hands, the scent made his stomach remind him it was still there. "Thank you so much, Amon. Please don't be late for dinner, even if you don't find him." She smiled wistfully at him.

"You normally go looking?" She nodded, an amused yet slightly giulty look crossed her face, and he walked out the door. Too much sitting around smoking weed wasn't good for a man who spent time trying NOT to think about things...But something got his attention when he made it to the city.  
Something that struck a core in him..."...He got high, and just wondered off..." remembering the way she shrugged, the twitch of a smile. Some part of her found the situation funny. He shook his head, where had he heard that phrase before?

As Amon drove around the older parts of Tokyo, he began to notice headlights that seemed to stay at an exact distance behind him. He grimmaced. All this time, Solomon hadn't shown an interest in finding him, now they followed. Turning abruptly left, he attempted to lose his taggers. Shoving the odd bits of loose ends from distracting his mind. it didn't take him long to lose them, few people knew this part of town like he did.

Shortly after that, the 'Old man' in question sauntered into his view. This time, in the light of day(and not blazed out of his gourd) Amon took a long look at his host. Tall, 6'3" or something like that. Hair down to his waist, a shimmering inky black. Olive tinted skin, that was anything but old looking. How old was ancient? Amon wondered, and climbed out of the sporty car.

"Mephisto." Amon stated walking up to the lost hippie. "Robin is very worried about you. You should come home now." Said lost hippie nodded his head and walked with Amon to the car.

"I doubt she's that worried..." Mephisto said as he compliantly got into the car with Amon. "I suppose I can go looking again some other time.." His voice trailed off as he watched the scenery. Once again Amon noticed the headlights. Muttering and agian, he took evasive manuevers. This time,  
they were not so easy to lose. 

"What are you doing, young man?" Mephisto was only slightly interested in the current goings on.

"Avoiding those people who undoubtedly want a peice of us both." Amon hissed. What good is being ancient if you don't have wits? He thought to himself.

"You said that I have a home, and a caretaker that is worried..." Amon eyed him strangely. "Perhaps if we get to her, she'll know what to do." Amon sighed in exasperation, how did Robin mange with this guy? Did she need to dress him, too? "What's down this srteet?"

Amon wanted to crack his head on the steering wheel. He didn't answer, just kept driving. Headed as far in the wrong dirrection as he could tell, a thought suddenly struck him. 'When you want to come back, just think about getting here...' So he thought about the neatly kept small mansion at the end of a forested drive. Not long had the thought crossed his mind then he was pulling into the driveway, and up to the house. No one was behind him to follow.

The occupants of the chasing car pulled to the side of the highway and looked at eachother. Confused, but not surprised, the younger one spoke.

"Did they just disappear? Or did I just miss them turning off?"

"No, Davide. It was a teleport spell." Davide sighed heavily, and leaned his forehead against the wheel. "We've been Hunting this ancient for 15 years...we haven't seen hide nor hair in 5. He shows and and poof. This isn't gonna look good on reports."

"Isn't a sniff better than nothing at all. And besides, who was that with him?" The first man asked, almost a musing, not a question. Davide looked at his younger companion.

"Don't know, Cameron. Don't know." They both sat back and staired out the windshield. "But the locals would know. He looked native enough."

"Should have that face on record somewhere...Besides, I like the way that Miho smells." Cameron's mouth was watering by the time they were on the highway and headed to Raven's Flat.

Not the time to be chasing skirts, man. Davide thought to himself remebering the hottie empath. She must remind him of his native scottish women. Shaking his head, they drove off in silence.

Amon had searched the house high and low, ignoring Mephisto's raised eyebrows. Muttering to himself, then cursing, then turning on the old man who was now laughing at his ire.

"Maybe she went to the store for some milk?" The elder said to the younger with a bemused shrug. An idea that the younger took great offense too.

"Why would she do a stupid thing like that? She's Hunted!" The old man blinked at him and took another toke.

"Hunted...?" The word was dreamlike, almost as if it registered something in the ancient...but not enough for him to make connections.

"Some people don't believe she should exist. So they are out to kill her"  
He kept his voice as steady as possible, though he couldn't help but think she'd left him here, again. Mephisto opened his mouth to say something,  
confusion written on his face. But the door opened for an old woman leaning on her cane, a heavy bag strapped to her back. She looked up at Amon for a moment, and saw the look he was giving her. Incredulous disbelief, like he just realized he was standing in the wrong house. Just as he was about to make his appologies the age of the woman before him melted away. Revealing the timeless visage of Robin. Upon her transformation, Amon's face changed again. Back to it's most stoic tendancy, which ment he really was angery. Most of the that anger Robin attributed to the peals of laughter that had erupted from Mephisto.

"Stop that." She said absently as she passed both men, "After he was so kind at finding you." Her voice was mellow and calm, with a twinge of something that Mephisto was identifying as sorrow. mephisto shrugged and followed her, saying something about young people. Which was countered by something about the extremely old being good for nothings. And since it's all the same anyway, can't they just have a pleasant dinner, like last night? Mephisto wandered off to the library, Robin making sure that is where he went. Him chortling the whole way about the great fun he'd had with 'her'young man. After seeing him settled, she returned to the kitchen to find Amon seated at the table with his arms crossed against his chest. Looking more than slightly irritated. She paused in the door way, more than a little intimidated.

Amon spoke "I want answers."

She walked past him into the kitchen, lighing the joint in her hand in the usual fashion, with her craft. Inhaling deeply she braced herself for the inquistion she knew to be following. "I will answer what ever questions you have to the best of my abilities." She murmered, and took another hit already wishing dearly that she was somewhere else. 


	3. Inwhich Long Words are Spoken

In which Long words are spoken

Robin stared blankly at Amon, 40 thousand angery questions had just been thrown at her. Starting with 'When did you become such a stoner?' and ending with 'What the hell was with the old lady thing at the door?'. Not to mention accusations of her ending up in Mephisto's bed after an all night binge. Her eyes were wide, her mouth only slightly ajar.

"Because, hey, nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition..." She almost erupted into sobs of laughter as the comment escaped her lips without without the OK from her brain. Managing control over riotous laughter, she only shook her head. That was not what Amon had wanted to hear, and he obviously didn't get the reference. Or at least if he did, he didn't find it at all amusing.

"No, Mephisto's way too old...even for me." She said, rolling her eyes at herself, and starting dining with her back to the angry young man behind her. Silently wondering to herself if he even knew what he was angry at...she certainly didn't. "I started toking when I was in Itally. I started toking HEAVILY when I got here. You've spent sometime alone with Meph, you can imagine being his only company for a few years." She got to chopping veggies. "I think he's looking for his children...what's left of them. If there are any." She shook her head, adding the veggies to the boiling beef broth. "I don't know who would know to be after that car, I've never used it, and Meph doesn't drive...he just sorta gets-"

"High, and wanders off." His voice was sharp, he was not liking her answers or as calmly as she was giving them. "The old lady thing?" At this she turned around and looked at him. As if deciding something.

"You remember, years ago, when we encountered the Methusela in walled city?" At his nod, she continued, "I told you then that she knew Time." He nodded, not comperhending. She sighed. "Time is a dimension, a twist to the fabric of reality. It is not a solid construct, just a twist." She saw he still did not understand, Her figure aged, her face lined with smiles and tears. "Old Robin." She said, he only blinked, still not getting it. Her figure shifted to the old woman from earlier. "Really Old Robin." He was still just staring at her. She gave up and threw her arms wide and became as frail and leather thin as a mummy from egypt. "DEAD ROBIN!" She shouted, just as Amon's mouth began to gape, she was back to being young and lovely. "I can twist the time around me, or just me, to suit what is needed...but I do not age." She explained, and took another hit. Offering the last half of the joint to him. This time he took it. Taking a toke, something dawned on him and he was standing before her. His eyes narrowing, that's how she'd slipped through his fingers! He'd been looking for his green eyed, young, beauty. Not a woman who could be any age, any time.

"I've seen you a dozen times and you never..." He began shaking, the roach falling to the floor as he grabbed her shoulders and raised to her toes in his iron grip. He wanted to shake her, or strike her, but the look in her eyes stayed both actions. Compassion and sorrow. And something else, something deeper than that. He was frozen in place, a knot in his throat began to mimic the permenant one in his gut.

"Why is Robin dead?" A warm, humored voice came behind them. "Is it dinner time yet? I'm starving. Young man, put your young Lady down, so we can all eat." Amon didn't move, the way Mephisto kept reffering to himself as Robin's and Robin as his own was beging to wear. Hadn't she already proved that not only was she her own, that she also wanted nothing to do with him? She was the one who left, after all. Dropping her, he stormed out of the room. Murmering something about not knowing why he was even there. He was half way out the door when he heard a choked sob from the room he had left behind.

Anger, and something dark with in him made him enjoy that sound. It was so familiar with the ones he'd made since she left. He heard the door swing shut as he stormed through the garden. Mists ebbed and faded, swirled around his feet. But no matter where his feet took him, he couldn't leave the garden he'd marched into.

"You never will at this rate." Mephisto's voice was clear, unfogged with the forgetfullness of age, answering Amon's unspoken question."

Robin finished making the hearty beef stew, sourdough bread and all, with tears streaming from her face. Perhaps she desevred this, she thought. She had left him, without notice or word. She sniffed, turned off the heat, and headed to her room. Careful to take an ample amount of stash with her from the freezer.

Getting to her private room, she headed straight for the tub for a long soak. She would be fine without him. She told herself, like she had for the past years...how long had it been really? Slipping into the scalding water she sighed, she hadn't stopped crying since she'd met that sad couple. So long ago and far away. Under the eyes of apathy, she had been able to look away as inocent people got hurt. Until them, and the loss of their daughter. She couldn't remember their names, but their faces were burned into her memory. As surely as the image of the pickled people floating in shimmering green space. The veil lifted from her eyes, and she vowed 'No more', when they too followed in the disappearing act.

She took a hit from the large bong resting on her flat stomach half way in the water. Her eyes crossed as she tried not to caugh. The Factory had gone down, just as she had secretly promised herself. It's mysteries revealed to her, and a few others. So far, of course, in vain. Solomon was jealous of it's mistakes, and even more so of the ones that involve out and out genocide.

Poor Amon. They both had been so racked with guilt and stress, he had flung himself at her. Sobbing first into her breast, then was pushed from touching her. She had spent many a long night and day huddled in a corner, staring at a wall, or sobbing uncontollably in a near fetal possition when he got too close. He had done what he could, putting her in bed when she had fallen asleep. Unable to touch her when she was awake for fear of setting off what ever was triggering her. She sighed and took another hit. She'd wanted to curl in his arms and be safe, possibly feel the comforts of love. But all she could think at the time was his gun in her face, and his cold voice telling her that she was a witch, not a human. That she didn't decerve the life she had been given. How could he love her anyway? She wasn't a natural born person...someone's science project.

She put the bong on the floor well with in reach, and rolled over in the tub. Trying to wash the pain of memory from her eyes. Then one day, she was out and getting food. The first time she'd left the safety of hole he'd hid her. She tripped over a leg, a leg that happened to belong to a man smoking weed. The familiar scent, turned into a familiar flavor. The familiar flavor turned into a conversation that turned into laughter. Something that had been foreign to her since her arrival in Japan. Then she realized she was lost. She had tried in vain to get back to where she'd come from, but found it impossible.

The man recommended that she wait for Amon to find her, since she couldn't remember how to get back to where she'd come from. He'd wait with her, until she was found. Amon never came. For a long time they sat there, eating what she had gotten from the open market, smoking the heavy flowers that Mephisto stored in his jacket. A long while past, and she decided to go with him to his home. It was better than waiting in the cold, and apparently, much to Mephisto's surprise, he had one to go too.

Robin had wondered in and out of awarness to time. Studying craft, cooking and cleaning, and looking after Mephisto. He'd dissappear for long periods of time sometimes, others he'd just sit in the garden. Staring longingly at the monument in front of him. The names of lovers and children through the ages carved in a large block of quartz, surrounded by blood red clamatis. Not all of his children had been laid to rest there, he said. He'd lost track of a few, a few he'd never been able to meet. But one by one, he'd find them, and add their names to their brothers and sisters. Robin had found this all too sad, and found herself in prayer there everyday since learning such. Always praying that lost family be found, not only by Mephisto, but by everyone who was looking. Praying that Amon would find her.

She sat up, grabbed the bong, and took a deep hit. She climbed out of the tub, released the water and went to bed. He'd found her and she had been known what to do with herself. It was true that she knew how he veiwed himself. It was true that she couldn't save him from it. It was also true that he was the first, and so far the only person who could touch her so deeply. She couldn't help him, because she couldn't help herself.

She set the bong down, and climbed into bed. For the first time in a long time, she wished she wouldn't wake from her sleep. She didn't want to die, she just didn't want to wake up from the dreams in which everything was all right. That Amon was smiling, that Mephisto was fullfilled, that people were left to be as they were without fear. The tears were still streaming as sleep took hold of her, and she found her peace.

-

As Mehisto spoke, Amon's foot hit something solid. In the dark, amid the shadow of flowering five point stars, was a glowing platform. Names had been etched into it's surface. Some of which he could read, most of which he could not.

"What is this?" Amon breathed, the quartz was glowing in the moonlight, full and round, like it's steller twin.

"The names of my children, and thier mothers." Mephisto sat on a bench, shadowed by the flowers. "All that have left this world, that I could find anyway."

"She waited for you...she couldn't find her way back to you...you didn't need to make her cry." Mephisto's arms were folded, his eyes though were sad, and thoughtfull.

"She told me she couldn't watch me tear myself apart. That's why she left me." He hissed back.

"NO, that's why she couldn't find her way back to you." The corner of the ancient's mouth twitched. "She left your house to fetch food. Food that I ate while we waited. We sat in an ally for three days waiting. I finally remembered I lived here, and brought her back." He lowered his head, stairing at the glowing platform. "I couldn't leave her to wander alone...not a gentle person like her." Amon sat down on it. Folding his legs in front of him. So she hadn't even meant to leave him.

"Then why did she never recognize me?" He eyed the elder, this lucid state surely would not last long. "Every time I saw her in her older forms...I didn't even know she could do that..." Now he was talking to himself, a habit he'd picked up the past few years.

"Everything has a price." The ancient sighed. "With age, comes forgetfullness of youth's joys, and sadness. If you spend too much time in timeless space, eventually, you forget the things that hurt." The dreaminess slipped back into Mephisto's voice, and Amon knew he's moment of clarity was gone. "It's cold out here...I am hungry. Where is My Lady?" The elder stood and started toward the house. "She usually has dinner ready by now..." Amon sighed heavily, and began to follow the strange person into the house.

His foot paused over something on the dais. Something in the shimmering light caught his attention. He froze as recognition took hold of his body. He stared down at the lettering for a moment, it had to be a coincidence...but nothing ever was that here. Shaking his head, he quickened his pace into the house. What Mephisto had been staring at, what he had caught glimpes at purely by chance, was his mother's name. Carved three inches thick in quartz. 


	4. Inwhich the Truth Comes Out

In which the truth comes out.

"I need to make a phone call." Amon anounced over a steaming bowl of beef stew. Well, mumbled in between mouthfulls. Robin really was a superb cook,  
and had out done herself, naturally. Mephisto only shrugged, not really understanding what Amon was talking about.

"Who ever your gonna talk to, make sure you do so before we finish this stew,  
or they'll miss out." Mephisto was also mumbling as he shoveled the rich food into his mouth. Amon paused long enough to dial, and wait for an answer. At the other end of the line, a voice full of humor answered groggily.

"Amon, man. You have the worst timing." Nagira was not surprised, obviously waiting for this call for a long time. "I was having the best dream about this cute little blonde..."

"Shut up and get over here." Amon hissed, his brows twisted together, tring not to think of his older half brother as competition.

"Where is here?"

"That doesn't matter, if you think of me and start driving, you'll get here"  
Was all Amon said as he hung up and fervently continued his food shoveling,a few minutes later there was a knock on the door. With Robin no where in sight,  
Amon was the one who answered.

"Where is she?" Amon was saying over his shoulder as he opened the door for his brother. Nagira raised an eyebrow as a smirk eased across his face.

"Maybe she's in bed already?" An all too familiar voice murmered, albeit sleepily, but still tring to be helpful. Nagira was frozen to the floor. "Who is that then? Bring them in the drawing room, I haven't had this much exitement in so long!"

"DAD!" Nagira was past Amon and storming toward the voice, and Amon's suspicions were confirmed. "Dad, where have you been?"

"Boy?" Amon walked in and stood frozen, suddenly unsure what to do. He had spent a good deal of his life being bitter toward this person before him. The past day though, he couldn't help but realize how things had ended up as they had. "How then...?" Mephisto began to eye Amon, as carefully as they had in the garden. "Young man, come here to the light, then...yes..." He was murmmering to himself and stared into Amon's eyes. "Yes, you do have her eyes then don't you..." A great well of sadness passed over him. Nagira blinked several times.

"So where is Robin?" He finally said as he looked from Mephisto to Amon, and back again. They did look an awful lot a like. "It is good to know you'll look better with age, Amon." He teased as a dark cloud began to form across his younger brother's brow.

"In bed?" Mephisto once again blinked. "I have not seen her all evening...not since this young man picked a fight with her." He sighed and shook his head.  
Nagira nodded his head in understanding, Robin didn't pick fights. She did end them though, and quickly.

"Not surprising, he-"

"Boy!" Mephisto cut Nagira off in a most fatherly manner. "The young man feels bad enough! You will not give him a hard time, he lost his mother to soon, and I'm too useless anyway." The matter was settled as Nagira shook hishead. 

"Come with me, both of you." He strode off toward the library in a purposeful manner that had not been there a few hours earlier.

"You always were his favorite." Nagira mumbled with his eyes on the ceiling ,to Amon.

"We left you some dinner in the kitchen." Amon replied in avoidance, trying to ignore the gentle prodding for once in his life. As they entered the filled library, Mephisto set before them a giant tome. Larger and thicker than any catholic bible, and looked at them.

"As you know, Amon, I am old." he began, looking down at the supple leather bindings. "Shunji, I'll never be able to help your purpose, but what is in this book can. It is your brothers and sisters before you. You two are the last to be added. I entrust this to you now." He turned to Amon, his kind eyes smiled with love. "You take good care of that little Cockitrice. Our Lady is a very special one." He grabbed Amon's wrist and pressed something warm into his left hand. The world spun and Amon's head exploaded into stars, the permenant knot in his stomach suddenly eased. In it's place was a warm sensation. The warmth spread quickly up into his chest, fullfilling his aching. It spread into his mind and grounded him to the spot. There was a knowing in this warmth, a knowing that said that everything would truly be alright. In that moment he was taken back to morning after the Factory fell. His head on Robin's breast,  
her heartbeat, and her voice telling him that all was well. A moment that was too quickly ended by the hurts that he'd recieved. By his mistrust of what he knew to be real. Here, though, there was no end. What Robin had given him was a moment of treasured space that was his now to hold onto. She had known the way, and he had rejected it. Now he could not, now it was overwhelming,  
overpowering, yet entirely giving. Amon opened his eyes. Seeing what he knew was the only way for such a gift to be truely given. Not just a teaser taste,  
but a sacrifice of love. Mehpisto was slumped in the oversized armchair behind the desk. His body tumbling to ash and dust. Amon smiled sadly as he watched his father fall back into earth.

"Let's not make Robin clean up the last mess our Father left behind." He murmered. Looking around him for something to put the old man's remains in.

"Where is she, Amon?" Nagira's voice was slightly choked, slightly mistified.  
But he too, took up the search. Finding a quartz urn that appeared to be empty.

"In bed probably." Amon said, almost as dreamily as the now decided ancient.  
"Do you mind seeing to this, I should check." Nagira waved him off, muttering something about Amon asking the strangest things of him sometimes.

Amon climbed the stairs in the dark. Night vision was never his strong point,  
it wasn't weak by any means, but now he could see as if a light hung just over his left shoulder. Making sure his way was lit just enough for him to see. He opened one door, the scent was clean, but unused. The next door, held his sent.  
Marveling at his new found sense, he spent time just noticing the delicate intricacies of each individual scent. Deep, and old musky myrh was Mehpisto's,  
leather and gun powder with an undertone spice nutmeg was his. There was Robin's, unmistakable vannilla, with overtures of citrus a very clean smell. He walked into her room without knocking, or anouncing his pressence. He was here to check on her, to apologize if one was wanted, or simply to comfort if he could.

Though her scent lingered, she was not sprawled in the overlarge bed. Checking the bathroom, and the walk in closet( the latter very rarely used, obviously.  
Still nothing. Only her scent remained as a teaser. Turning the Hunter's insticts back on, he scrutized the room. She'd been very stoned laying down,  
the heaviness of the floral smell still lingered in the bathroom. The bong was still on the bedside table, and still slightly warm. She had been here until very recently.

He whirled (impressively) away from the sene, and headed back toward Nagira.  
"She's gone, I'm going to go find her." He grabbed the keys she had given him earlier and ran for the door.

"What!" Nagira yelled, running after him. "What do you mean 'She's gone?  
Where are you going!" Amon froze, glaring at his brother for the interruption to his search, half in the sporty car.

"She's gone, as in, she isn't in the house-" He sniffed the air, no linger trace of her, "she isn't in the garden, or anywhere near by." His scowl lifted as he stared at his brother's animated face. "She probably got high, and just wondered off. She was closer to Father than either of us." With that, he was in the car, and driving away. Wondering to himself on how to find her.

Nagira watch his brother drive away and shrugged. "Ass. Probably chased her off earlier." He muttered to himself. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and happily began to smoke one. Sauntering toward his own car. Well, he thought, might as well get to the office and do some digging.  
Just as he reached the car door, he remember the book that was left to him, and raced back into the house.

Amon was at Raven's Flat before he knew where he was going. Raising an eyebrow at himself he was quietly deciding being a witch wasn't all that bad after all.  
Especially if it meant travel time would be cut as short as this. The doors were sliding open as he willed them too, just as he was wondering if he could cross oceans in the nice sports car that Robin had given him. He walked in finding Micheal sitting at the usual place, at the usual time. The younger man froze in his typing.

"Micheal, I need you to help me find Robin." He anounced.

"Good to see you too." The young man didn't move. "We thought you both were dead."

"Not really, you know that a simple building falling wouldn't stop us."

"NO. Of course not." came a voice that Amon didn't recognize. "We'll help you find Robin. Then you will give her to us." The new man stepped out of the shadows, grinning. 


	5. Inwhich the Fight Begins

A giant of modern day stepped out of the shadows with a grin of pure satisafaction across his face. Strawberry hair tumbled around his shoulders, a thick and full (but tidy) beard covered his jaw and lip line. He looked down on the smaller men with eyes that sized them up as chuncks of emergency meat. A look that made both Amon and Micheal squeemish. Six foot four, and built like a brick wall, the man spoke in a scottish brogue.

"The Cockatrice has escaped you, maybe I should take up her company." He mused as the grin widened.

"Don't let Miho hear you say that." Micheal eyed the older man. "I think your getting close to cracking her."

"If they both are willing, I'll take'em both on!" He laughed as Micheal screwed up his face.

"You're such a womanizer, Cameron." Micheal looked uncomfortable in his spot on the floor. "I'm telling Miho if you don't mind yourself." Amon rolled his eyes,  
weren't they all too old for this.

"Just who are you?" Amon cut thier tiff short. "What intentions do you have with Miho, and what do you want with Robin?"

"Just a night or two with the empath. They make superb lovers...always know how to please their partners..." He shrugged. "The Small Lady, though. Who knows?  
Maybe I won't turn her over. Maybe I'll keep that one to myself for a while...maybe longer." Hetook a step forward, placing himself so the slight breeze brought Amon's scent to him.

"She's obviously rejected you." Chuckling at the look on Amon's face, he reached into his coat, pulling out a 45. Without emotion he aimed it at the dark haired man fifteen feet from him. When the shot rang out, Micheal flinched, Amon just stepped to the side. As though he had all the time in the world move out of the way. A look of displeasure crept across the Scotts'man's face. Amon just shook his head,  
reached down and grabbed Micheal's shirt, hauling the boy to his feet, and half dragging him out the door.

Micheal watched helplessly as the Wall O' Man began to fly towards them,  
snarling in rage. But for all the running Cameron was doing, he never made it anywhere near the two retreating figures. Micheal was reminded of a scene in a movie Robin made him watch a long time ago. It had been in English, something about a king looking for a goblet of some kind of importance. He was chuckling to himself as Amon tossed him toward a dark, midnight blue, sport's car.

"What's so funny?" Amon asked, the tone registered to Micheal as a way of making him stop chortling and get on with the search. The boy sighed as he began typing on the laptop. He heard the dark ex-hunter sigh. "Who is this Cameron person?"

"Cameron MCcGee." Micheal started. "His partner Davide Tessitore and he, have been stationed here for the past 15 years, looking for this witch called Mephisto.  
Who is some sort of ghost like witch."

"Who is quite dead, now." Amon murmered. Remembering the events earlier that day. So those are the two who chased us today, he mused to himself. "Why have we never heard or met up with them before? Never mind." He added at the look the hacker was giving him.

"Really? Should I make a note of that?"

"No. They'll know soon enough." If they don't now, Amon thought to himself.  
"Go on."

Micheal just blinked. "How do they know Robin?"

"Lenore would know." Micheal said softly as he continued typing. "She lives just a few blocks from here." A few blocks turned into Touko's old appartment building,  
which then turned into Touko's apartment itself, remodeled. Walking in, he could still detect Robin's sent eminating from her old room.

"Micheal, always glad to see you." Came a scratchy voice somewhere out of veiw. Amon had to raise an eyebrow, he had to nearly bring his chin to his chest to see her. Was she a midgit, or twevle? No more that five feet tall, and built like a stick with breasts, small ones, but enough to give her a womanly form.  
Her hair was straight and pale, and sort of scraggly, giving her a feral sort of look.  
Her eyes were gray with traces of amber. She looked him up and down, then turned to Micheal. "I've told you time and again, the silent type is what you look for in a toy, nothing to be taken seriously."

"Oh, he's nothing serious." Micheal said as he walked past her, coy smile playing on his face. Planting himself at the table, setting up his computer.  
"Just a whim really. We need to find Robin. The Toy says she's lost." Amon folded his arms across his chest and watched the pair banter...something was definitely up with these two. Not to mention this twelve year old, 'Lenore'  
smelled eerily similiar to that 'Cameron' person.

"Probably just got high and wandered off." Lenore's scratchy voice belied the humor that she tried to hold in check. Micheal just laughed.

"That sounds more like her than dissappearing." Micheal said between chortles.

Amon grimiced, how much more of this would he have to suffer through? He shook his head, and moved to sit at the couch. A steaming cup of coffee was placed in his hands by the palel, ragged woman.

"She did get high and wonder off," Amon said shortly. "Right after Mephisto died."

This did take the woman aback. Wandering in, he planted himself on the couch and continued to veiw the scene.

"Old Mephisto passed?" Her scratchy voice squeaked. "That is a problem"  
she left the room only to return with an ancient tome in her hands. "Who then is the Tower Guardian of the North?" She blinked, a frown crossed her face as she eyed Amon.

"You smell like him..." She leaned uncomfortably close to him, took in his scent, and suddenly was walking away. Shaking her head muttering something about 'Thia'.

Micheal laughed happily, and stepped away from the computer. He looked at Amon as if to say 'Isn't she the best?'. The older man just shook his head as Micheal set himself down on the other couch.

"Hey, Lenore? What do you know about Robin?" Micheal called out as

the frail woman walked back in the room with a Thai stick lit and leaving it's heady sent trailing behind her. Her smile was serene and distant.

"She saved me." Her voice was soft for just a moment. But shaking herself,  
she lit the stick. "Do you know why Witches who are stable are all stoners"  
She asked in an absent way. Not waiting for an answere she continued, passing the yummy stick first to

Micheal, then dropped to her back with her head in the blonde boy's lap. "We smoke it to calm the world around us. You see, every being projects it's feelings into the ether net all the time. As an Awakened, we are always patched into that very same ether."

She paused as Amon passed her the stick. "It's amazing how one special little flower can cover the mind. Not only as a cushion, but as a veil. Our thoughts, our emotions are just ours when we are stoned. We don't have to be bogged down with everything else's hurts, and angers in this state." She rolled over and looked Amon in the eyes, full on. Her gaze was hard to keep, it almost hurt, the power of it almost overwhelming.

"Only you can find her, only you can know where she is. You better hurry,  
Cameron is determind. He wants to be her consort." She rolled back over, watching Micheal take another toke, passing it to the other man. "Only the Paths through the North are safe to move through to the South. Just as East to West. You better hurry, you were lucky with Cameron last time...he is very close now." She tossed her keys at him, never taking her eyes off Micheal's. Taking that as his que, he was out the door, not looking back. Just as the door closed, locked behind him, he could hear the sounds of a woman being pleasured.

Micheal was in the throw of things, Lenore's nails in his waist and scratching higher as she shrieked with pleasure, when the door was almost busted in with a fist that sounded as though it weighed a tone. He released as the door really was busted in. Gasping he dropped happily across her, believing in her skills as a witch to defend him from the monster who now scowled down at them.

"You have no tact, brother." Lenore murmered, pleased enough for the moment.

"One of these days, I'm gonna be angry with you. Or worse, me mate here will be." All she got was a deeper scowl, heavy arms crossed against his chest. He stalked toward the room where Robin once slept. Took a deep whiff, and turned to the lovers as they got up off the floor. Lenore took a deep toke, and passed it to a grinning Micheal.

"And just what would happen if your mate decided to be angry with your dear older brother?" He was hissing with anticipation. The smell of sex, and the last traces of scent left by the green eyed blonde was making his head spin. "Stop bogarting."

"No. I would have to kill you, not just scar you." She eyed the man and he backed up a few steps. "You were there for her birth, she didn't Recognize you. She's not yours. I'm not helping you." Lenore went back to sprawling across Micheal's lap, her skirts still around her thighs. Hissing, the man threw himself out the door, and down the hall. Her scratchy voice grated his spine. Since when did Lenore stop being his sweet, obliging little sister?  
When did she start simpathizing with people not in the Family. His foggy brain told him it was her mate's fault. Of course, he couldn't move against that, so he would just have to kill off the competion without her help. Which was going to be hard.

He paused when he saw her car pull out of the parking lot. This Amon was not as good as everyone thought he was. But then, it is hard to escape a well trained Craft User...or is the new preferred term 'Witch' now? Rebellious youths. He shook his head as he picked up spead, and lunged onto the car. Slamming the engine block into the ground. Making a good chuck of it a permenant peice of concrete. The look on his rival's face was priceless, Cameron could only grin manically.

Nagira inhaled his cigerette with more vigor. Letting it hang slightly as he thought heavily over the contents of the book. Taking another long drag, he began to shake his head. It was a journal. Six thousand years of personal experience. Putting the butt out in a soda can, Shunji shook his head. Six thousand years of proof that the Emperor himself could not aurgue with. His contacts in the World Court would be cumming themselves if they knew what he held in his sweaty palms. Lighting another, he wondered if he should tell Amon about the bits of Family history,  
of Robin's family history.

The ancient gods and goddess, long turned to myth, were real. Paintings, and wood carvings of the Old Ones had their place in this tome. Robin's face was drawn with a name that only made sense when he thought about it. Rhiannon. Apartantly,  
Robin was a direct decendant of the ancient goddess. Queen of the Underworld,  
Lady of bird and horses, a Moon Goddess of old. Amon's face was in the Egyptian section. Horus. Odd, Nagira thought to himself, never really picturing himself as a decendant of a god of Truth...though quite fitting. Both have birds in common. His father said something interesting. He'd called Robin a Cockatrice.

Sitting up suddenly, he thumbed the pages until he found the image and name in question. A dragon-like bird. Breathed fire like a dragon, but feathered like a bird. A guardian of South. Fierce and independant, but entirely devoted to a single mate.Nagira raised an eyebrow. Would that make Amon a flying donkey?

Damn, he thought, just when I was getting my hopes up. Putting the second butt in as many minutes out in the soda can, he lit another one. Mentally taking the cutie blonde's clothing off. Robin's face melted into Dojima's, forcing him to really grin, nearly dropping the lit cigarette on his shirt. He jumped to his feet, wrapped the book back up in the silk he lifted from his father's and headed back to the house. He needed to keep this safe until he could think clearly. He needed to eat, sleep and more importantly, get laid. To bad this spacial jumping thing didn't work on leaving this house, Nagira thought to himself as he pulled into the driveway. Must remember to raz Amon about filling this place with the pitter-patter of many little feet. Chuckling at the image of his aloof brother the caring father of a hord of green eyed children.

Amon could only blink at the interruption. The wrecking ball of wrath had sprung out of no where. No Robin at his side to save him, or distract the enraged individual.  
Not this time. He grinned, back at the grinning death mask before him. Time to see what he could do, for real. He concentrated and let his eyes slide closed. Putting all his faith and trust in himself for once, he felt himself slide from the sene. He could hear the howl of rage at his escape. Opening his eyes, he stood with his back against a tree thirty feet behind the man-doom. This was going to be to the death, he suddenly realized. This was going to be the first time he REALLY kills someone. Kate just got hauled off to the Factory, just as all the other witches he Hunted. He checked the pistol at his ribs. The Orbo was still active, he grinned at himself. Reluctant to use something so natural as the magic that had just awakened within him to take down another human being. Even a crazed one such as Cameron...Amon checked to see how many bullets he had...Maybe he didn't have to kill this guy after all. Maybe he could get a way with a near fatal wound? Grinning even wider, he leaned causally against the tree, just watching. Realizing the decided advantage he had gained at Lenore's.

The other man stuck his nose in the air, getting a mighty sniff. His prey has partook recently, no emotion emulated from anywhere in particular realation to this fight. Cameron had to use less fancy methods to track the smaller man's actions.  
Catching the scent he whirled to find the impudant imposer smirking against a nearby tree. This is it, Cameron thought angerily to himself. Without taking his eyes off his target, he pulled the lines of manna into himself.

His breath quickened as the surge overcame him. Only his most primal insticts had sway now. His jaw itched, and lengthened. His back arched as it stretched,  
and his knees buckled, then bent backward. He dug claws through what was left of the metal hood as his feet began to digigrade. He howled as the transformation was complete, his mind was a little more his own agian, and he sniffed the air. Still no fear. He lowered his lupine head and loosed a growl, raising the hackles on his back to make himself bigger, though, now he outweighed the humaniod by a few hundered pounds. His snarl deepened as there was still no trace of fear. That smirk was still spread across the pale face.

Unable to take it any longer, the werewolf form of Cameron sprang forward,  
Only to miss his target, and break the tree trunk in half. Halfway to the next block,  
Amon leaned against another tree, unmoved in a most irritating way. Springing again, again, Cameron missed. Growling with rage, he began a large circle. Just watching, waiting for any tell tale sign of a next move. Weed didn't last forever, sooner or later, it would wear off. Once it did, the scrawny punk was done for. So. Growling, he circled back. He could wait.

Micheal tapped away at his laptop, digging up what ever he could find on this Mephisto person in the Solomon data banks. Lenore was giggling over an episode of 'Invader Zim' still sprawled on the floor. Skirt still mostly around her waist than doing it's purpose. He sighed, still no luck.

"Hey. Has Cameron been through here?" Davide's smooth voice ventured from doorway.

"Yeah." Lenore's scratchy one replied, though her eyes never left the television set.

"Do you mind fixing that? Micheal's busy, and I don't want to be bothered."

"Sure." The sound of wood remending, of metal remembering it's previous shape.

"What had him in a tizzy?" This dragged Lenore's attention from the cartoon alien.

"Attempting the impossible. Mephisto's son has inheirited the family business."

Micheal stopped typing and looked at her for a moment. Davide wandered in with a shrug, lit a joint, passed it to Micheal.

"You Changlings are SO predictable." Davide handed the joint to Lenore as Micheal handed it back. Moving to watch the cartoon on the couch. Micheal returned to his tapping, pausing again for the passing of the joint.

"I've a fiver on Micheal's Man-Toy." Lenore's comment was offhandish.

"I thought you were his toy." A claw swiped Davide's face drawing blood, the typing stopped again. Lenore had her fangs bared, and her right had deformed to accomodate the claws.

"Appologize." Micheal said absently, going back to his typing. "I'd hate to make Robin burn your lifeless corpse. Especially since we haven't seen her in such a long time."

He kept the roach to himself, smoking the last he could as he continued his efforts. "not to mention blood stains EVERYTHING on a rather permanant basis."

"I'm very sorry." Davide murmered, wiping blood off his face.

"Get out and I won't kill you." Lenore hissed. With a sigh, the man complied.

Muttering something about a ten spot on the werewolf. Lenore just grunted and

returned to her normal shape. Micheal stopped again, this time kicking away from the table and turning to her.

"Can I ask you something?" He said after a moment of taking in her countance.  
She smiled and nodded, sauntering over to him in a sultry sort of way.

"Now that the days weirdness is over, do you mind telling me why you never clean Robin's old room?"

"It's my last connection to her." She passed a hand through his hair. Her sharp nails scratching across his scalp, sending chills though his body. Sighing, he grabbed her hips and burried his head in her slight cleavage. "It's only dawn, love. Why do you think the weirdness is over?"

"Normally, things go pretty smoothly for a while after you threaten Davide"  
He found his mouth full of breast covered in thin fabric.

"I AM gonna kill that guy one of these days..." She sighed in pleasure, she'd never liked that him from the start. Cameron didn't care what company he kept, so long as they were useful to him in some way. "Today is not that day, and tomorrow doesn't look good either." Micheal murmered in a most distracted sort of way. Lenore suddenly found herself topless, she raised an eyebrow with approval. Micheal put one arm around her waist, got a mouth full of breast and sent his fingers to explore her soft pantiless self under her skirt. She let her head lull back and moaned. Mentally thanking the gods for the young man's libedo.

Cameron's body smashed against the rundown building. Ending up somewhere on the thrid floor. Raising himself to his four legs, he shook himself at the searing pain. Ignore the frightened looks on the faces of the inhabitants. All were witches,  
his keen sense of smell told him as much. But no where near his own level, nor his quarries. He growled to himself for the miscalculation. A pure blood, or bloody close.  
He sprung forward, this must seem like a clash of titans to these poor, tired mish mash of his race. However marginally better, it was still better that two of them finished their fight out of sight of the normal humans. His body slammed against another wall, not as hard as the last hit. His prey was slowing down."The weed's gonna wear off soon!' He howled, "you can't keep this up, newbie!" He heard a lighter spark, and ran for the sound. Reaching it just in time to slam HIM into a wall...or through several, as it turned out. Triumph raised in his throat, no one could out power him in close combat. Such triumph was short lived though as a white hot pain, followed by a slow, sickening posioning began to still his body. The shot rang out again, the pain and posion spread faster untill he couldn't move. He hissed as his body could no longer hold the manna lines in place. He wanted to curse, to shout. Or bite something. His prey was walking away, and he was unable to continue the fight. A conversation with the locals that his brain couldn't register, and the scent of his rival was gone. Now he just wanted to bite something OFF. Darkness took his mind, releasing him from his pain for the moment. 


	6. Inwhich a Little Honesty Goes a Long Way

A/N Edditor has been really buisy, so sorry for the delay and bad spelling! Hopefully 7 will have His(the Editor) approval. 

Amon couldn't believe his good fortune as he talked to the residents of Walled City. Explaining what was going on, and giving them advice on what to do next. Call an ambulance, and hide. What they did best really, and they listened. Their pail, unsure movements made him wonder about his own confidance. Was craft really like this? It was a third and fourth arm to him, was it the same for others? Was it the same for Robin? 

He sniffed the air expirementaly, she was near. As in she was somewhere in Tokyo. He had to find her before Cameron woke up. Not really sure what he was doing, he closed his eyes and searched for the trace of her. He could feel the lines of power that lay across and through the ground move, pull taught, then stop. He opened his eyes to the small appartment that he had tucked her into not so long ago. A familiar sene lay before his eyes.

There sat a golden haired woman, her knees to her chest, her head on her knees. Her hair was down, tips touching the floor. She picked up her head as she felt his presence. Her eyes were wide and worried. Amon. She mouthed at him. She blinked, unmoving. He stepped forward, and took her face in his hands. Lowering his head to hers, tasting her breath on his lips.

"How did you get here?" He spoke softly, barely more than a murmer.

"Mephisto." She choked slightly on her tears. "I felt him pass. Then I was here...But I don't know where 'here' is."

"Do you want me to take you home?" She nodded into his palms. He half picked her off the floor and placed her head against his chest. Feeling her arms encircle his back, he slid his eyes closed and consentrated on a forested drive, so peaceful, and distant from this night's termoil.

It was very early morning, the sun just peaking through the low branches as Nagira, Amon and Robin stood at the dais of quartz. The pail urn contained the remnants of a man that most of the world had forgotten That he, himself had forgotten, Robin joked softly. Ensiting a chuckle from Nagira, and a sigh from Amon. Set to the center where it seemed most fitting. For a while none spoke, just staired as the sun rose enough to hit the urn, which channeled the light into the carved crystal beneath. A breath taking sun dial of light and color. The bloody stars of the clamatis even seemed approving, rather than morning.

"Well, whose hungry?" Robin asked, in her most Robin-esq way. Not waiting for an answere she turned and headed back to the house. Wanting nothing more than return to her routine. Amon looked at his brother and sighed, they had a lot to talk about, but it all suddenly seemed like it could wait.

"We haven't got all the time in the world, but I suppsoe we could break for breakfast." Nagira said to the retreating back of his younger brother.

"What are you talking about?" Amon didn't even look back over his shoulder. "All Robin, I and the world have is time."

"No, really Lenore," Micheal's tone belied his iratance at his lover. "How do you know Robin."

The pail woman looked over her shoulder at the young man with a sigh. She stopped in her dressing and looked at him, studding him for a while. The amber tinted gray eyes began to melt, then softened altogether. "I was just a cub when she found me..." The look she gave him now was distant and glazed. "My Clan was staggered to the four winds," She shook herself. "Survival, or some other lame excuse." She snapped the bra on with a grimice. "Ciaro was not a good place for her. Not wild, not harsh, she seemed like easy meat." Another shrug, then her shoulders sagged as she fingered an angora lavinder sweater. "I know that's what they thought of me...but Robin...you don't cross her. Not for anything." Her voice trailed to a wisper, Micheal saw tears forming at the corners of her eyes. She straightened and whurled to face him, letting the silver drops go where they wished. "I was giving up on the reasons for continueing when I bumped into her. She made me feel like home...like I mattered, somehow...She became my sister." A rare, true smile spread across her face, "I have never stopped following her..." Micheal smiled back at tiny vixen infront of him.

"Even though she's been gone for years?" He couldn't keep the question from slipping.

"85 years of abuse or neglect melted way with one wan smile, time means nothing." Lenore pulled the sweater over her head and dragged Micheal towards the door. "There is always day and night, but what are a few seasons but reminders of what, and who we love? She and I are two of the same, so naturally, we will drift together, and apart." They where out the door and headed toward the Raven's Flat. "But we will always come together again, as though no time had paced between us." Micheal was grinning ear to ear as they walked in the door of the office. True love has nothing to do with sex, or gender.. He thought to himself as he ignored the snide look from Miho, and the grumbling form Kosaka. And everything to do with power from within, strength of mind. Dojima opened her mouth to say something but an unearthly growl that sent chills down the spine made her snap her jaw shut, and turn toward her termanel.

"We need to gather in confrance room." Kosaka grumbled, long since learning that one does not start breating and hollering when anywhere near Lenore. Especially if it was in anyway dirrected at Micheal. "So mass damage was done to Walled City, and one of the 'Sharks' is in the hospital." The Administrater marched himself into the dark room, not waiting for a reply.

"Cameron lost." Was all Lenore said as she left Amon's old terminal and headed after, Micheal on her heels. Miho sighed, how she missed the days that it was Robin she was dealing with...or Kate. She decided Robin was easier because she could at least pretend that the girl was a subordinate. Or otherwise, somehow beneather her, which was much more comfortable. That, and Robin was relaxing to be around. She found herself thinking. With that air of warmth and welcome...not this farel, scraggly MIDGIT with an attituted problem. Silently hissing, she too took her seat.

Davide sauntered in just seconds after that, placing himself at Robin's old seat. "Looks like Cameron lost." He anounced.

"You've seen him then?" Lenore raised an eyebrow, "which hospital is he at?"

"Edwards." Kosaka and Davide responded, Davide's eyebrows knitted, not happy with the interuption. "It was the citizens with Walled City that called the ambulance. Since you two know so much, why don't you fill the rest in?" Kosaka was obviously way irritated. Dojima staired wide eyed as Lenore, Micheal, and Davide heald a secret conversation with their eyes. Looks darting back and forth around the room. At last she could take it no more.

"YOU!" She shreiked, jumping to her feet, pointing emphatically at the young hacker. "YOU WILL TELL ME WHAT YOUR HIDING!" She looked like she would climb over the table to claw it out of him if Lenore wasn't sitting so close to the young blonde man. "Your hiding something! You KNOW something!" Her voice was a wail that simmered as she noticed Lenore''s hair began to stand up slightly.

"You aren't the only one who can keep secrets." Micheal smiled a grin that should have been on Lenore's face, the woman it belonged to purred in pride. "I know lots of things you don't. How would you like to be enlightened today?" A groan escaped Davide as he leaned way back in his chair, rubing the bridge of his nose.

"Let's start with how Cameron ended up in the hospital, why there are large holes in the buildings between here and Walled City...now that I mention it, Lenore, why was your car implanted in the pavement?" Kosaka's vein was beginning to pulse. For a few seconds she thought about staying silent and watch the older man have an anurism...decided though, to let his hypper tension get the better of him another day, she decided to fess up...to some of it anyway.

"Cameron was chasing some skirt." She began, rolling her eyes. Not missing the dark look that crossed Miho's fakely benign face. "The skirt already had a mate, said mate didn't take it kindly and, apparently, taught him a lesson." She too leaned back crossing her arms behind her head. "About time too, he was getting to big for his breaches." She said in gaelic to Micheal, who laughed and nodded.

"And you know this, how?" Miho tried hard to keep her tone from turning acidic.

"Oh," Lenore was enjoying this way too much, "He broke my door down before he got into the fight while Micheal and I were...preocupied." Miho's brow knotted, Lenore could sound just like Robin sometimes. But only when she was using that sweet, gentle tone to twist thorns in one's side. "Had to have Davide fix it for me." The smaller woman added last minute. Davide grunted and headed for the door. He was not about to sit through another cat fight. Miho had no defences, and Lenore was just to vicious toward the skulky empath.

"Hey, man," Sakaki had stayed as aloof and silent through this whole conversation as he did most days, just trying not to get involved.

"Yeah, you can come with...just checking out what the witnesses have to say." Davide was down a partner, after all, and being around those two did the boy no good. It was natural that in the end, the computer geek saw more action than the rookie, but being witness to the cruelty of women at such a tender age was not good for a jock's ego. A boy shouldn't ever be told that women are meaner, and better at manipulation than he could ever be. The Shark thought to himself. "Don't let those two scare you off skirts, boy." He said as they got into his car.

"Robin wasn't..." The boy started, but trailed off.

"I'm sure she's a nice lass. I never knew her. She's still a skirt, though, and being a bitch goes with that teritory." He spied the look in the boys eyes. "Even if she's nice about it."

Kosaka sat in his office, watching his tea grow cold. It was teppid now, he'd been stairing at it so long. Wishing to himself when he could yell freely, when his team actually listened to him. When Amon was scaring the little ones into behaving. When did this administaritor gig become so nonessential. He grimmiced. It was the day that Lenore McCGee first showed up. She sauntered in, and the Sharks where hot after her.

"Welcome to the STN-J." He'd sayed amiably enough, and began to recite her job to her. As he had done for Robin, what was this girl? He'd thought, twelve? But no, half way through, she'd put HIM in HIS place. Telling him that the lone hunters, 'Sharks', where going to be in and out of Raven's Flat. That due to past circumstances he would be under survalance, she of course would be the one survaling him. He sighed again. Yes, he did wish for Amon to come back. What he was really wishing for was to have the respect that Ziazan had...but as long as Lenore was here...He took a sip of his tea.

It really hadn't taken long for her to corupt Micheal, thus off setting the balance between the other hunters. Her elder brother Cameron was flightly and only came by to unerve Miho, and Davide was a good for nothing useful himself. Though, the two older men seemed to take pitty on Sakaki, giving the boy some men to hang and hunt with. Not that they were REAL men. Kosaka had a hard time seeing Cameron as anything but a werewolf from horror movies, or Davide as anything but the fixer of broken things. Though it didn't matter what was broken, the Itallian could fix it. They were only witches as it was, and one day, hopefully soon, he'd be rid of the pesky threesome. Maybe then he'd have that demure little Robin to look at again. He sighed, a shrill voice erupted from below the over looking windows of his office.

"Sir, the women are in a fight...again." Hatori was at the door, looking anxious. "What do I do?"

"Stay well away and out of it, Hatori, m'boy." He's voice was strained and tired, he looked over his shoulder, down and at the fray. Imediantly wishing he hadn't. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of what kind of power was sent to them via Lenore. But there she stood, in all her Sphinx's glory, wings outspread, and full yowling snarl at someone he couldn't see. The young hacker next to her sat blissfully unaware, typing way at his keyboard. Kosaka laid his head in his hands. Stupid 'Pi' gnenom being unstable gave way for a werewolf and a sphinx in one scottish family...poor family...Shaking his head he went back to his tea, now quite cold. Poor him. He thought to himself.

Nagura was back in his office by mid day. Catching up on the nightly events, and even found time to see some of his clients. Much to his secritaries suprise.

"Just like when SHE was around...have you heard from her yet?" She'd berated him until she was board and found something better to do. "Some lawyer you are..." Was the last comment before she headed off. He sighed, he probably decerved that. He lit a cigarette and staired out the window. Who knew his little bro was such a stoner? And Robin? Well, he'd geussed that from the start, just the way she walked around with that look on her face. But Amon? 

As soon as the wake was over, he was lighting up and watching the shapely blonde do her thing in the kitchen. Probably didn't pay a lick of attention to what Nagira was saying to him. Only giving the occasional nod, with the even more occasional 'Yeah'. Nagira gave up entirely on family history when food was place infront of him. His stomach was so full of rich good food, he doubted he would eat for a week. The kind of meal people pay outlandishly for, Amon was sitting back and enjoying on a regular basis. The lawyer snorted, took a drag. Probably why the dark exhunter kept her so jelously to himself. Either that or he hasn't gotten it on yet, thus making it impossible for her to chose anyone else. Not that she seemed to mind. Nagira grunted in agitation. 

"Dinner is always ready by seven, lunch at one. Breakfast about now." Robin had said as he left the house, as if she were telling him she fully expected his company on a regular basis...even if it was only for meal time. He shook his head. Amon was their father's heir then...not they way Japanesse men usually do things, but then, their father wasn't Japanesse...He was a man form a lost civilization that now had no name. Somewher near ancient Maya. He hadn't looked Mayan, but time had changed the old man's features a great deal. Even mountains get changed with time, so maybe the same could be said for men too. He looked at the clock, seven on the dot. He snorted and went back to paper work. Might as well give the love birds some time to sort out their affairs. Not too much time though, maybe only a day or two. 

-

Dinner came and went with little said between the strange pare. Robin's warm beauty found herself in the bath with her bong, Amon doing who knows what. What now? she asked of herself. Without Mephisto to look after, who would she talk too? Amon didn't communicate easily, or well. She didn't have the patience to hold his hand through his emotion turmoil...and she was lonely. Especially at night. Eighteen and not a kiss yet. She sighed, slipping further under the water. Would she be doomed to life as a virgin forever? She was getting tired of that status, after all, it didn't mean much. Just more years of pent up frustration, and emotional stress brought on by no hormonal or emotional realese. Not that she was of the mind of jumping just ANYONE...though the thought had crossed it a few times.

Sufficiantly pruned, and scrubbed, she crawled out of the claw foot and sighed. In a life not long ago she had friends, she had a life. Sighing, she didn't even grab a towel as she wandered into her room. Carring the bong lossly in her left hand, hair hanging infront of her eyes. Halfway across the room she realized she was being watched, she froze and looked up through the veil of gold.

Skin, hair, and bong dripping water to the hardwood floor. Though it never seemed to touch, she staired at Amon as if he was a ghost. Shocked to the core, she didn't move, nor did she blush. She just staired. He just staired back, in awe of the sight before him.

"You really are a sight, you know that?" He murmered, stoned grin spread across his face. She blinked at him, not sure what to do or say.

"Uhmmmm...thanks?" Amon raised an eyebrow, she hadn't moved yet. He was half dressed and sprawled across her bed, a strange sort of smile spread across his face. His eyes held her still. There was a shimmer there, one that had always been. One that she didn't recognize until now...wanting. Not sure what it was he wanted, she lifted her left hand, offering the bong. He grinned a rakish sort of grin and grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward him. She dropped the bong, but it hit the mattress and bounced a bit. Amon wrapped an arm around her waist, taking in her sent and the sight of her.

"I'll deny you nothing." He wispered into her face, her breathe came in short, soft puffs. Now understanding what it was his eyes had tried to tell her a thousand times before. 

"Does that mean you'll come with me to Berkly?" A glint of a smile spread itself across her face, suddenly realizing she was stradling his lap. Her breath caught in her chest as his hands slid from her waist to her hips, and down to her upper thigh.

"Sunnymooning?" His mouth closer to hers, her arms crept around his neck pulling her tighter to his bare chest.

"And riots." She wispered in an excited tone. He nodded into her mouth and rolled her to her back, giving into the need that had brought him to the brink of insanity. Kissing her intently, Amon rocked against her body. Only the flesh of thier arms and chests had contact. Robin moaned, and begun to shiver, she was in need of something she couldn't name. However she knew that ender of the ache with in her lived in Amon's pants.

Amon traced his mouth down her jaw, and nipped at her collor bone. Grinning as she unfastened his pants, and aided her in thier removal. Grabbing the back of her knees, he dragged her off the bed and onto the floor. If she wanted him NOW, who was he to argue? He rolled her around to face the foot of the bed on her knees, and slid a hand down her sides to play with the soft nervebud within her moist folds. His other hand guided himself into her, and began to repeat the oceanic movement, this time buring his length within her. Starting off slow, with a lot less pressure than he would have wanted, not wanting to hurt her. With the invent of bycicles, modern women rarely have hymens to break, however, there was still the distinct feeling of a girls hipps widening to 'the lovers' possition. Her leggs strained against his fingers as he intensified his movements. He wrapped his other around her ribbs to hold her in place as she burried her face into the matterice.

Gripping the blankets of her oversized bed in clinched fists, Robin began to moan louder, and shudder harder. Before she could stop herself she was shrieking and rocking back into the man, bracing herself from the ever increasing force by locking her elbows. The hand between her legs came up and gripped a breast as her head fell against his shoulder. His movements began pressing her chest against the fabric of the large bed. Soon her chest was on the bed, and his hands were on her hipps pulling her onto him as he pushed into her. Grinning she opened her eyes and craned her neck for a peak at his face, which was contorted in both pleasure and consentration.

With a sudden heave she was thrown back on the bed and landed on her back. Both her knees caught by his elbows as he mounted her agian. This time his thrusts were rappid and hard. Robin couldn't help but scream out in her glory, which only encuarged him. Throughing her hands above her head in a show of submission. His eyes widened and dialated in wild need.

He let go of her knees in favor of grabing her wrists, her legs wrapping around his waist. He pinned her there and stared down into her face, her eyes half lidded. She would have been smiling if she weren't screaming. His moment was on him now, and he had no choice but to ride the wave of extasy through. He jerked into her harder as his weight remained on her wrists, her back in a full arch up to meet his cumming as he exploaded into her. He dropped against her, still pounding with the after shock. Letting go of her wrist so they could twine around him. She dug her nails into his buttocks, as if to guid him further and harder in and up, causing the electirc spikes to shoot through her body, making it convulse and writh around his. He grabbed her shoulders for more leverage, as she braced her heals against the back of his knees. Bringing her up a few more times before he droped his weight upon her and panted against her neck, completely spent. He dragged thier bodies to the head of the bed, and wrapped them both up as soon as he had caught his breath. No need to catch a chill. They kissed and snuggled into one another, and in no time, Robin had passed out. Amon grinned to himself as brushed hair from her face. Amazing how the world works itself out...was the last thought in his mind as he followed her in peaceful slumber.

Nagira had just reheated his dinner plate, and sat down at the table. All was quiet, like the inhabitants had gone to sleep early, or weren't home. He had the first bite held to his mouth when the screaming began. Raising an eyebrow he stuffed the morsel into his mouth and checked his watch. 11:45, it told him. The yowling continued through his meal, and dessert. Still grinning, he put the dishes in the sink and headed for the door. At 12:45 he was leaving and the extatic screaming stopped. He would have to tease Amon about this later. Nagira shook his head, fate was fate. And there's no escaping destiny. Even if the little shit didn't diserve it. 


	7. Inwhich Someone has Little Humor

Inwhich some People have no Sense of Humor 

Recovery came quick, at least the physical end at any rate. Two weeks in the hospital, and Cameron was freed. He despised the entrapped feeling that lie in the overtly sterile environment. The incessant 'beep, beeping', and the occasional 'ping' of machines drove him from any rest he might have gained if they had just left him embedded in the wall. He growled darkly into his ale, narrowing his eyes as the amber liquid did it's job of fuzzing his brain.

'I can hear your brain cells dieing.' Robin once teased him, a long time ago. The glower lifted slightly. She had been a slip of a ten year old, clinging tightly to Lenore in the Dublin pub. Both girls grinning wildly at him. 'Why can't you be a normal hunter, and smoke more weed? You'd get into less fights, and we wouldn't have to defend you to Father Juliano.' Lenore had only nodded, knowing full well that Robin's reasoning was falling on deaf ears. He had patted her sweet, glowing head and pulled them both closer. 'I like the fight, no fighting allowed in Japan you know.'

For this day, that rule be damned. He had lost the one woman he ever bothered waiting for. The glowing girl that by rights should be his. A fresh ale was set in front of him and he nodded to the barkeep. Harry was a nice man, Cameron thought to himself. He'd always thought so, especially since he'd formed his own attachment to the golden haired beauty that had been stolen from him. Yes, such a love was never to be blamed for the insolence of one infidel.

Downing the amber liquid, he grabbed the man beside him by the back of the neck, and drove his face into the counter. Guiding it back and forth along the edge, the red haired giant stood suddenly and dragged the un warned individual out of the cafe, and into the street. Where, much to Cameron's good fortune, was a group of the mangled man's friends.

The unfortunate one was hurled toward the first of the crowd, knocking him over. While the other three stared on in disheveled disbelief. Suddenly, Cameron saw no one, but the sulky Amon-character. They might have tried to run away, but being smaller, and unprepared for physical abuse, not to mention slightly drunk, their get a ways were cut short. The one to the left of the 'catcher' got a knee to the chest, knocking the wind out of him. Then his nose got shattered against the very same knee, which meant he was out. The next one over got an elbow to the throat, thus making strange noises that disappeared somewhere behind him. Probably due to choking on his own blood and finally dieing. The third one tried to plead, but ended with a mouthful of fist, a crotch full of knee, and an elbow taken from socket then twisted around at an odd angle. The one that had caught the first of his victims held his friend desperately trying not to say anything or make any sudden moves. Cameron only smiled darkly down at the individual, until he simply turned and walked away. Whistling to himself over what a good job he had done, he headed back to the office. There was a skulky empath that always seemed to be there this time of night. She wasn't the slender flame thrower, but she had her own benefits.

"Someone got into a cat fight." The very same red head from the savage beatings amusedly said to businesslike empath, as she swabbed at a series of scratches with an antibacterial. "Has my little sister gotten out of hand?" At this Miho only scrunched up her nose. She wasn't some doormat that he could come too in a pinch, she told herself as she disregarded that he even spoke to her. "What's with the sudden chill?" The amused voice chimed happily, enjoying the game they shared. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and sent a stream of thoughts through her.

"Did it ever occur to you that some people don't view these things as a 'game'?" She snapped and tried to pull away, but the grip tightened. The wave of age over ran her, and she was dragged in. Cameron was old, though he didn't look it. She turned and stared into his face and hated that she couldn't fight him, she almost hated him for her weakness. His blue eyes burned into her, showing her the passage of time that she would never understand. "It is only because of your youthful beauty that you do not understand. Your idealism of how love SHOULD be clouds you to how love IS." He spoke against her lips as she panted.

"Love is love, sex is sex, and we ARE in the girl's bathroom." She wasn't going to allow this, she hissed to herself. Too many times she'd given in to the seductiveness of this sort of contact. For way too many years, he'd been able to walk in a room, and move her threw her own craft. Any contact at all, and she was undone. Not this time, she screamed at herself.

"Truth is truth, Miho." Was all he said, his hand on her shoulder slid under her blouse and unfastened her bra. All the while sending streamers of thoughts through her skin, making her shiver. She brought her knees together, and pushed on his chest.

"What about you taking off after Robin?" Miho almost hated that word right now. She couldn't even look at it with her minds eye as a name. "I'm not a doormat, or a game, or what ever else you think-" The free hand clasped over her mouth, cutting her short. She scowled as memories that were not hers flooded her mind. An infant with a glow around her, presented to a company of of hunters 'Beware your better' Father Juliano said as the girl child was passed around. A nine year old, green eyed girl clung to a twelve year old green eyed girl, that could have passed as her sister. With a gasp, Miho realized she was looking at Lenore and Robin. Side by side with their fingers entwined, giggling at something she didn't know.

"I have to understand what she is, and why she is my better." Cameron murmured softly into Miho's ear. The growling purr deep within his chest brought her to the realization that her knees had unlocked, and had begun to spread themselves around his waist of their own accord. She leaned back and rolled her eyes, she really couldn't help wanting him. It really didn't help that he knew exactly what to say and do to get her to submit.

"She's genetically altered to be the 'perfect witch'." She said with a sigh, then a moan as his erection throbbed against her opening. She moaned again, and grabbed the sink that she was resting against.

"It's more than that." He whispered, still giving her the mental work over. "Something that could only be given mother to daughter." He cut that stream and just sent pleasure through the wave length. Letting her craft feed off of his, he pulled her panties aside and thrust into her. She braced her heels against the porslyn and ground into him. She could feel his pleasure run through her as her own overloaded her senses. He pulled her off the sink, and sat down on the bench behind them, allowing her to work out what ever strain taxed her mind.

She ground harder and faster, but to no avail. Something wasn't letting go. She grabbed his hair and looked into his eyes, trying to tell him something, to do something. Her mouth worked out the syllables, but no discernable sound came out. Even still, his Lupine ears piked up what it was. He ripped her panties off, and flipped her onto her knees. Holding tight to her upper inner thighs, stratling the bench. With his index fingers on either side of her clit he began to thrust into her at the same time puller her against him. It didn't take long for him to spray his seed like a fire hose into her. She screamed with a surprised shudder as she felt his cumming through her empathy, as well as her own. She lay her forehead on her forearms, moaning loudly as the giant with his oversized member still working out her kinks.

Once again, Miho was staring into the mirror, cleaning herself up after one of the McCGee's. She didn't mind her visits with Cameron, like she did with Lenore's. True enough she was always sore after either one, but Cameron's effect was a much needed release, especially after Lenore drew blood. She was a little miffed that she would have to drive home without the comfort of her panties under her skirt. Especially since she would have to get to the car without anything dripping from between her legs. When they had finished she'd kicked him out of the girls bathroom and told him to wait. A few moments after that, as she was putting on bandaid on a 'Lenore wound' when she felt an unusual wetness run down her leg. Surprised, she'd reached for a tampon only to remember the fluid had not originated from her body. It was the first time Cameron had cum IN her. The flush the crept across her face probably went everywhere. The siblings where more animalistic than they were human she had decided a long time ago. That was the deal with Lenore and Micheal. The poor boy hadn't a chance, and now, neither did she. Sighing heavily in defeat, she wondered out into the hall where Cameron waited like she told him to. She was taking him home, like a stray puppy that was lost in the cold. "You better be house broken." She mumbled aloud.

"Too late for take backs, mate." Was the only reply she got.

"No, Amon, you are NOT driving the Cobra!" Her voice wasn't raised, but it was forceful.

"Give me the keys." He repeated himself for the fifth time, his own voice strained in iratation. Seattle was cold, and all he wanted was to get to the nice warm hotel.

"NO." She stated firmly as she wandered to the driver's side. "Control freak." She barely more than muttered. Amon stiffened, watching her approach the left side of the vehicle. Grinning to himself as he began to think he'd won.

"I am not." On the right side of the deep indigo machine, he noticed his mistake and sank into the seat with his arms folded.

"You are too." She stated gently, putting the key in the ignition and turning the battery on without turning over the engine. Amon raised an eyebrow, and took in his surroundings. He was not about to get into a childish banter of 'are not, are too', no matter how fun it was at times. It was an older car, all original leather interior, and a stick shift.

"What are you doing?" He asked after a few minutes passed in silence.

"This is a '75 stick desiel." She blinked at the look on his face, inscrutable as ever. "You have to let the alternator warm up so you don't put excess torque on the engine. Besides, it's been sitting in the cold for years with no love." Her eyes had returned to the dash board and she stroked the wheel with pride. "The desiel might have congiled a bit, so we have to let that warm up a bit too." Amon rolled his eyes and nodded. "When we get to Berkeley, we'll get you your own car, but you need to learn the rules here if you don't already know them. I'd hate to get a ticket in the States."

"Are they that bad here?" Amon moved the seat back to give himself more leg room.

"Oh, yeah...don't have a drink then drive anywhere for the rest of the night." Robin rolled her eyes. "That's how Cameron lost his liscence here." She giggled at the memory and turned the engine over. Her eyes alive with a glint of devilish glee. Amon turned to look out the windshield instead of at her and shook his head. Girls and their toys, he thought to himself. Pulling out of the parking garage went much smoother than anticipated. Everything was neat and orderly, a broad expanse for someone who had been crowded into an overpopulated area all his life.

On the main road to their hotel, Amon watched in a half sleepy daze as the car in front of them purposefully (or so it seemed) drove itself into a light post. His eyebrows reached his forehead and he turned to Robin.

"Are we in downtown already?" She barely more than sighed, she caught him looking at her questioningly. "That happens all the time here...No body knows why either."

"Nobody's done anything to find out?"

"It's been like that since there have been cars in this city." She grinned widely. "Seattle's a strange place, I think the first one burnt down, then fell over into the Sound. The second one just sank into the sand. The third one is the one we are driving on."

"So it really is a city on a sand bar?"

"Silly isn't it?" She giggled as they pulled into the hotel garage. "I love it though." She mused as they grabbed their bags and headed toward the hotel proper. What about life didn't she love? He asked himself.

The hotel was old for this end of the country, richly decorated with heavy dark woods, and rich reds and golds. The western idea of wealth it seemed. Their room looked like the rest of the place, almost like Robin's own back home. Amon sighed, they had only gotten off the plain a few hours ago, and already he was home sick. He sprawled across the bed, listening to the shower run. Imagining what the little woman was doing when alone and unobserved. He sighed again, stripped and climbed into the bed. Out the window he could see the lights across Pugit Sound, the distinct noises made by the bays. The fog horns, the cars, the bare feet padding across the carpet...he sat up to stair straight at a pair of well formed breasts.

"My, what a nice rack you've got there." Was all that choked out. A gentle hand was placed on his face, and the familiar sent of a heady flower filled the air. "Yes, please." The neatly rolled joint was set on his lips, and he inhaled slowly. Wrapping an arm around the narrow waist, he pulled the woman, rack and all down and across him. Finishing the joint, he curled around his slender lover and tucked them both in for the night.

The drive from Seattle Washington to Portland Oregon went by without incident, and little conversation. In all the trip took five hours for them to be standing in the ring of stones that overlooked the Columbian River. Amon sighed to himself heavily, never in his life had he seen more open, free space, and Robin had told him it would be getting worse. 'There is more people in Tokyo Japan than Washington and Oregon put together...through in Idaho for good measure...' Agoraphobia is beginning to set in, he thought to himself.

"What are we stopping here for?" He turned to his partner, suddenly eager to get back into the car. She smiled wanly at him and pointed to the 'Directional Stone'.

"Memorize those markings. That way, the next time we need to go to the States, we won't need planes, or boats." He sighed heavily once again, and stared off into the stone. The swirls and slashes began to shift, and bleed together, soon he began to see the patterns and hidden messages. A light went on in his brain and he focused his eyes a little more sharply at the top, where the 'Notch of Solstice' had been struck. It was the star pattern for this area at mid winter. A half grin twitched at his lip, he knew he could come back to this very spot anytime he wanted. HE was no longer bound to the continent he was standing on, HE was truly free.

"There are other places with these stones...when will we be going there?" Amon asked of the figure sprawled across the hood of the car, toes almost touching ground. Placing a hand on her knee, he reached for the joint in her hand as instead of attempting any of the other thoughts that swirled in his brain. She only grinned at him, her eyes half mast in stoned pleasure.

"In good time, my love, in good time." She murmured sleepily. "But we have a job to do, and I want to get to Corvallis well before night fall: I wanna ride a horse." She started to slip off the hood a leg on either side of his. He raised an eyebrow as he exhaled, and put the roach out. Temptation getting the better of him, he leaned over her placing a hand to either side of her breasts to brace them both where they were. With great satisfaction he watched her eyes dilate with want.

"Give me the keys." He said in a sultry voice against her lips. Her reaction was only a laugh and a playful push.

"Get off me, you rake! Your terrible!" Robin continued to giggle as she squirmed from under him, and got into the car.

"I believe the term is 'control freak'. Which I am not." Amon replied with much humor in his voice.

"You are too." Was all he heard as she started the engine, and they took off down the road.

Three hours later, Amon was curling up on the black leather sofa of a sprawling (in his point of view) dark green house, surrounded by open pastier land. The house was surrounded by a tuft of trees, that followed the uncontrolled creek that was just a few feet behind the long, squat structure. He'd been grilled about Japan, and the differences between the surrounding areas, and the place he grew up in. Now, though, he was being forced to deal with them...all of them. It's a good thing I'm stoned...he almost said out loud.

"...FUCK! You'd think that the government owns EVERYTHING!" The man, this Ferrell, was saying. Amon raised an eyebrow and looked in Ferrell's direction. "Well, I'M not going to take that SHIT! I have rights! My Second Amendment says I have the right to have MY gun WITH me!" He lit a cigarette, only to put it out in a shell casing after two drags. "I'm not going to get caught unarmed around Neo-Nazi Pigs with an Attitude problem!"

"All Neo-Nazi's have attitude problems...that is why they are called 'Neo-Nazi'." The woman, Donna, said as she entered the house, Robin on her heels giggling. Ferrell only looked up and nodded their return, loading a pipe, that ironicly, looked like a hollowed out bullet. Amon couldn't' help but shake his head, which made Robin's giggle turn into a laugh, as she set herself down on the floor in front of him with a 'plop'. The massive wolf they called a 'lap dog' pinned his ears and scuttled up to get the ruff scratching of his life from Robin's newly planted form. Amon placed a hand on the beasts head to scratch the ear joints, which earned Robin a fierce face licking.

"How much did you say Duncan weighed?" Amon asked of Donna as he looked up from the girl and wolf.

"137...he is fat though." She responded sweetly, then laughed as Amon's breathing passages where block by a tongue that really knew it's business. The women howled with laughter as Robin was forgotten in favor of himself. For the rest of the night Amon's job was pet Duncan, and occasionally wonder into the conversations that usually consisted of Ferrll's political views, or Donna's horses.

Until Robin dropped the bomb. He himself was almost asleep when he heard her say something about 'pickled people' getting their 'astro-essence' drained out of them. This of course made him sit up in shock. The night of the Factory had all but been pushed from his mind, and with a sudden whirl and crash, he remembered every single bit. His head ached suddenly, and his stomach curled within him. A raw red burn of anger crossed Ferrell's face, but his eyes where kind when he looked upon Amon.

"PTSD. Here, you look like you could use this." The man handed Amon the freshly loaded bullet-pipe, with a grin that seemed to say so much more than anything that came from the mouth. He hit the substance with a flurry of passion to avoid the tears that threatened to spring from him. He nodded at the look Robin was giving him as he handed her the pipe.

"Amon's mother was in that place." She barely more than whispered. "Lost her when he was 10." She looked sadly at the water glass in front of her. "Got roped into the business by the usual methods, never knowing what was really happening." Her eyes were filled with loving compassion, not pity, and for that, Amon decided, she could never be seen as a corrupt being. Donna had the same look on her face, and before he could move, his head was dragged into her lap. Her fingers through his hair reminded him of the company he now kept. He sighed as the stress and pain was literally pulled from his body, and released to the ever loving earth.

Amon was out of the conversation for the rest of the evening, warm and fuzzy, his mind floated between Robin's kind voice, to Donna's mothering fingers. Ferrell yelled often, and pounded the table in defiance. Something had to be done, by someone, and it looked like it was Robin's number. Only the slender woman shook her head.

"We are going to Berkeley. A few well placed words will get the ball rolling." She grinned sleepily. "It may not be in this lifetime, but the end to this Holocost is near. The world has decided that genocide is wrong, so we must prove, and make notice of the infractions that Solomon makes. Who knows, maybe we can keep the name, but change the face?" Robin just shook her head and turned to Amon. "Enough for tonight, I'm ready for bed." He nodded and sat up, duly thanking Donna for her kindness, and followed Robin to the bright purple room with the four poster that had been designated as 'her's'. Once under the mound of blankets, he cuddled up to slight being, and clung to her till sleep overtook him. All the night, he dreamed of going to school and coming home to a drunken step father telling him his mother was 'gone'.

That was it, no one could or would say anything else. The next thing he knew was being shipped off to his half brother's. Though Shungy's mother was sweet and understanding, Amon was anything but. It did not take long for the boy to be fostered out to a Solomon home. It was this in the end thatt drove the two brothers apart, and into different directions. One went looking for the truth, the other sought to burry it.

Upon waking, once again, Amon found himself wondering how the world does this...this working itself out. Grinning to himself he got up, got some pants on, and headed toward the smell of coffee and breakfast.

"It may take a few hundred years, but what is a few hundred years to an eternity of understanding?" Robin's voice rung sweetly in his ears as he wondered into the kitchen.

It wasn't until late afternoon that they were on the road again. Robin having decided to take the 'back roads' which was nothing but endless rolling green fields. Disturbed by wildlife refuges, and the occasional farm. Pink Floyd now was exchanged for Moody Blues, and Robin was happily 'rocking out' to her second favorite band. Sometimes softly singing along, usually leaning back in the seat with one hand on the shifter, and one hand limp on the wheel.

It wasn't until Eugene that she caught any major road, this she called the Interstate 5. He sighed as they entered 'Bum Town', Robin laughingly called it.

"More hippies than 'Frisco." She had explained. They pulled into a drive-bye espresso shop for munchies and the like. "I think we should stop in Grants Pass for the night, and take 101 to Frisco. It's the pretty way, and I want to see the trees again." She paid the young lady and handed him is mocha and scone.

"The trees?" He eyed her with humor.

"The Red Woods. You'll understand when we get there." She suddenly made a face. "Dig into the glove box for me and see if I still have my camera, would you?" Upon inspection, indeed, there was the camera.

Grants Pass was a lovely high mountain town. Barely more than a village in his mind, but a full out city to the people who lived there, and damn they were proud of it. The evening air was thin and frosty, cleaner than any he had inhaled before. The sun going down over the hills turned the sky an intense aqua, while sending the ground into a stiff, gray darkness.

With the sharp nightly air stinging his lungs and the solitude of a hotel room, he found himself between Robin's legs, and groaning into her mouth. Her nails dug into his back and sides, arching up to him, she met him thrust by thrust. Eventually, she flipped him onto his back and ground herself against his length. His hands wandered where they willed, finding a path down to the clit, and up to one breast. Her head fell back wards as she let loose a shriek of joy, her body taking up a sliding rythm up and down his shaft. He hissed with this new movement and switched positions with her, roughly working himself to his own end.

As promised, Amon understood about the trees as the first of them came into view. By the time they were surrounded by the thick of them, he was making her stop. Getting out, he stood before one and looked up. It didn't end in his sight, and when he opened his arms, there was more tree than he had reach. He turned to look at the car, then back at the massive tree._ I could drive right through this with four feet on either side...comfortably_, he thought in amazement. Something at the back of his mind shivered, it felt like laughter was coming form the ground, and rattling his brain through his feet. The tree is laughing at me, his internal voice shouted. The shiver shifted, and something warm filled his mind, something loving and approving. Something that wasn't him reassuring him with great tenderness. He whorled toward Robin, looking for an explanation, only to be blinded with a flash. A glower formed across his brow, but the warm shivering intensified. His sight cleared, and Robin was laughing at him.

"What is that? That warmth in my head!" He was truly alarmed.

"That's the tree." She said and strode forward, grabbing his hand and placing it on the immense truck. "The Tree, this is The Amon. Amon this is Tree." The warmth enveloped his brain, and set his palm buzzing.

"I can hear the tree? It's talking to me?" His voice was a disbelieving whisper.

"Yes. Tree here is very happy to meet you in person. All Trees talk to each other, and what one knows they all do. So everyone here knows you, because someone met you back in your home. But they are glad that we passed by this way." She smiled, and patted the brick red trunk. "We have a distance yet to travel, we will be by this way again, I'm sure." With that she drug him off, a small child in him wanted to wave good bye to his new friend but such was resisted. Though, he couldn't help but think that he was heard, and the high up branches waved in response. Once again in the car, Amon fought the urge to cry. Not in sadness, but in reverence. How amazingly the world was tied together, how it all seemed to love itself, cherish itself. How every little piece took care of itself, and all the other little pieces, even when at first it didn't appear that way. How nobody was ever truly alone, when all you had to do was reach just a little beyond yourself, and behold, you are embraced by the living breathing being that was this little blue planet. Spinning endlessly in a little, barely noticeable galaxy in an ever expanding universe. The dark haired man just curled up in his seat and reveled at his own immeasurable insignificant importance, a grin sliding across his face. The woman next to him laughed with love to herself as she realized he finally understood.

_A/N this is a continueing breakfast cearial...but please don't get upset if I don't get back to it in a while...I am working on Tarot, and am expected to go into labor very soon...lets hope the soon part about the labor...hehehe. Anyway, I will get back to this! Loves too you all, hope you have as much fun as I do!_

_-Moonsister_


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